IMPOSSIBLE THINGS

- “No,” said the first mouse whose name was Fred. “That’s impossible, trees can’t race.”

- “Yes they can,” said the second mouse whose name was Ed.

“right now I am betting three handfuls of grain against Bennie the chipmunk’s handful of pine nuts, that that tree over there,” said Ed pointing at a tall tree on the field’s edge, “will reach one hundred feet in height before the tree next to it."

“And,” continued Ed, “the rocks Sally and Sam are also betting on my tree. For sure Bennie is going to lose his pine nuts.”

- “But Bennie ─ well not just Bennie ─ you, me and dozens like us will be long gone before your susposed tree race ends,” said Fred.

“That’s right,” rejoined Ed, “but Sally and Sam will still be around to collect.”

- “Impossible,” said Fred. “The whole idea of a tree race is just silly. Impossible and silly.”

- He paused then and said, “but it is possible to shovel night off the back balcony of Grandma Smith’s house.”

- “No,” said Ed. “That’s impossible. Night cannot be shoveled.”

- “Yes it can,” returned Fred. “All you need is a sunshine shovel.”

- “There is no such thing as a sunshine shovel,” said Ed. “Therefore it is impossible to shovel night, and more impossible to do so with a shovel that does not exist.”

- “It is possible,” Fred demanded.

- “Ok,” said Ed. “If night shoveling is possible then tree racing is also possible.”

- “No,” said Fred as he said earlier, “trees can’t race.”

- “Fine,” said Ed. “If trees can’t race then night cannot be shoveled. If night can be shoveled, then trees can race.”

- “Impossible,” Fred began, but his thought was broken by a giant airplane that swept down from the sky and grabbed both of the mice with its tires and flew away.